


Touch

by sohardtopickaname



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, I truly don't know whether it's fluff or angst, Missing Scene, On the road to King's Landing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-22 18:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohardtopickaname/pseuds/sohardtopickaname
Summary: Touching each other before falling asleep became their ritual. The rules were simple: no kisses, no lower body contact, no hands under clothes, no talking.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> It seems I am still not over it, not really, so digging into their past is my (sort of) canon-compliant way to cope.

It probably began that night when he woke up feeling a warm body pressed to his back. _The_ warm body. _Her_ warm body.

\- Brienne! – he whispered, half-astonished and half-alarmed. – Are you alright?

She jerked away immediately, muttering excuses and most likely blushing like she had never blushed before.

He turned to face her.

\- Brienne, I only asked because you don’t usually...

\- It was a nightmare. I must have sought... comfort before I fully woke up. I apologize deeply, I’ll never...

\- I haven’t heard you scream, - he said softly.

\- I... I don’t scream, I haven’t since I were a child. It used to bring me mockery in Renly’s camp, and it could put me in danger whenever I would sleep in the woods.

He felt an instant flash of a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It was anger, it was pity, but it was also something else, something elusive and...

\- Ser Jaime! – she gasped, probably as she felt his stump on her waist forcing her to move closer to him.

\- You said you were seeking comfort.

\- That was before we both woke up.

\- I don’t see any difference.

\- It’s... inappropriate.

\- As if everything you have done in your life has been appropriate for a highborn lady, - he chuckled. – Winning tourneys, serving in the Kingsguard, pledging your sword to Catelyn Stark, escorting prisoners.

\- But it’s not...

\- Brienne. Have I ever harmed you? – he had asked this question before and remembered the answer all too well. Well enough to close his eyes in anticipation of the answer.

\- You’ve tried once, - she said slowly. – But you’ve only helped me since then.

\- Let me help you now too.

He repeated his attempt to pull her closer and this time meeting no resistance. He held her like that for a little while, awkwardly trying to find a position in which he wouldn’t feel her breath on his lips, because it was giving him ideas that were much less appropriate than just keeping her warm and safe in his arms.

\- Turn around, - he finally whispered, and she eagerly complied. Not that feeling the skin of her neck just an inch away from his lips did not provoke any inappropriate thoughts, but it was more bearable, and he also made sure to twist his body so that, while his chest was fully pressed into her back, he only touched her bottom with his outer thigh.

***

He could not remember how he managed to persuade her to let him comfort her again the following night, but after that touching each other before falling asleep became their ritual. The rules were simple: no kisses, no lower body contact, no hands under clothes, no talking. He would stroke her back; she would brush his long hair with her fingers. She would curl up in his arms or he would curl up in hers. It was all _friendly_ , he kept reminding himself. It was _not_ inappropriate. He treated her with _respect_ , and any strange thoughts that attended his mind while he was doing that were caused by the simple fact that he had not seen, or touched, Cersei for a really, really long time. Not that he was thinking about Cersei all the time. It was probably the natural course of love, after a certain number of years it was supposed to stop being the only thing one could think of. It was just a part of growing up, of becoming mature. Making friends was also natural, and he was lucky enough to find a friend he could trust. So what if that friend happened to be a woman. He was not like all other men, he could only love Cersei, no other woman would stand a chance against Cersei in his heart. Even a beautiful woman wouldn’t, and Brienne was not beautiful at all. Except maybe her eyes, quite astonishing, really, but that was it. Well, and her legs. So long, so strong, so graceful in some special, powerful way. Surely there was no beauty in her shoulders. He could often see the muscles move under her thin tunic as she was stretching in the morning, a mesmerizing sight, but those shoulders would look dreadful wrapped in silk of a proper gown. No beauty in her hair either, she cut it outrageously short, although the color reminded him of southern sun, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to tuck a stray lock behind her ear every now and then. She always pretended to be annoyed but never protested, not really.

***

The night before they were supposed to arrive in King’s Landing, they broke a few of their unspoken rules. He slipped his only hand under her tunic and was slowly moving it up and down her spine, her skin feeling so smooth under his fingers. She placed his head onto her chest and was playing with his hair, gently blowing on it and then placing light kisses where the air would create an opening and expose the skin for a brief moment. He did not twist his body as he normally did, so his cock would occasionally brush against her, but she did not seem to be bothered by its hardness.

\- Brienne, - he spoke, breaking another rule. – I want to thank you for your trust.

\- I want to thank you for not abusing it, - she responded after a pause.

\- I would never do that. You are my _friend_. I mean... I didn’t intend to assume... Are you?

\- I am, - she said earnestly, but he could also sense some bitterness in her voice. Why would she sound bitter, did he offend her by his assumption?

\- I will make sure you have everything you can possibly need in King’s Landing.

\- You know that all I need is three fresh horses, whatever spare armor and a sword you can give me, and the Stark daughters.

\- Yes, but the arrangements will take some time, and the girls will need to prepare for the journey. I am not sure Sansa can ride properly; I have never seen her on a horse.

\- The sooner we leave, the better. I do not want Lady Catelyn to wait too long. Besides, _she_ is there alone, without me to protect her.

\- Her son will make sure she is safe. I am more worried about the way he may treat _you_ upon your return.

\- By the time I get back to Robb’s camp, you will have forgotten my name, - she scoffed, another hint of bitterness in her voice.

\- I don’t think I will _ever_ forget you, Brienne.

\- I thought you stopped mocking me.

\- I am not mocking you, I’m telling the truth! You... I have never met anyone like you.

\- Yes, yes, anyone as boring as I am ugly, I remember.

\- I haven’t seen your eyes properly then. They are astonishing, really.

\- What? – she pushed his head away from her chest and looked him in the face.

\- I just said that your eyes... – he stopped suddenly. Her eyes were huge and seemed dark, for it was dark in the room, but he knew their true color. He could see every freckle on her cheeks, her nose, broken, possibly more than once, and a tiny scar on her upper lip. He could see her pale skin slowly turn pink under his gaze. The urge to kiss her was so sudden and so strong that his breathing halted, but to kiss her would mean betraying Cersei, and betraying Cersei was about the only thing he could never imagine himself doing. He swallowed and exhaled loudly.

\- Never mind. We should really get some sleep, - he managed to say.

She nodded, took her hand off his shoulder and turned away quickly, but not quick enough for him to not have noticed her eyes glistening. She was _crying_ , he realized, and bit his lower lip until he could taste his own blood. He wanted to grasp her shoulder, turn her around, kiss away all her tears and then kiss every inch of her face, and possibly not just her face. To tell her about her eyes, and her legs, and those muscles that moved so gracefully under her tunic, and those stray locks of the color of southern sun.

He couldn’t. There was Cersei, and Cersei was his past, his present, and his future. He has killed for Cersei, and he would have killed for her again. For Cersei, he would have killed anyone. Well, possibly not his father. Maybe not Tyrion. Not Brienne, of course, that wasn’t even possible to imagine. Not because she was that important, she wasn’t family. It would be just stupid to kill her after he almost lost his life trying to save her, and he wasn’t _that_ stupid.

He knew she was still crying. He couldn’t see her face, and she was completely silent, and her shoulders did not move, but he knew. If only Cersei has never been born, or died in childhood, or...

“I love Cersei,” – he thought deliberately, as if saying a full sentence, and kept repeating it until he saw Brienne’s back relax and heard her breathing steady. He cautiously sniffed the nape of Brienne’s neck, trying to memorize the scent of her skin, then turned away from her and closed his eyes.


End file.
